


When He is Weak, She is Strong

by subtlesinner



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lyrium Withdrawal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:58:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlesinner/pseuds/subtlesinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor had been away from Skyhold for longer than she'd wanted; with the Inquisitor away, Cullen seems to have a particularly difficult time taking care of himself...</p>
            </blockquote>





	When He is Weak, She is Strong

The moment the Inquisitor walked into her Commander’s office, it became evident that it hadn’t been a good day for the ex-templar; his face shone with sweat as he leaned over the map he was studying alongside one of his senior officers. Despite the fact that he was wearing gloves, Inquisitor Lavellan had no doubts that his knuckles had gone white with his weight leaning desperately against the edge of the table and praying that the other officer hadn’t noticed. The Inquisitor hid, her back pressed carefully against the wall behind her as she watched intently, absorbing as much detail as she could, quietly, before he finally noticed her presence in his office. A brief moment of surprise washed over his features, followed by a wavering smile as his arms threatened to give way underneath him.  
Cullen finished his meeting hastily, still not verbally addressing the fact that he’d noticed his dalish love reclining against the wall behind the ladder that led to his bedchamber, her arms crossed across her chest as she watched him. Disappointment colored Cullen’s features as the officer finally left his office, the young man’s cheeks flushing just slightly as he noticed the Inquisitor for the first time,  
“Maker’s breath!” The officer exclaimed, “Er- Welcome back to Skyhold, Herald of Andraste.” The Inquisitor nodded gently in acknowledgement, willing the young officer to leave now, soon, as Cullen’s face continued to grow paler with each passing moment. After an awkward moment of silence, the youth caught on, finally ushering himself out of the room, clearly embarrassed at the tension that had built quickly around him. In the same instant he’d closed the door behind him, Cullen’s tenuous grip on the desk failed, sending him stumbling; the Inquisitor flitted forward with an agility aided by her arcane abilities, immediately close enough to catch him before he fell to the ground. His voice weak, Cullen managed a small, insincere chuckle at himself.  
“I’m glad you’re back… I’ve felt on the verge of that all day.” The Inquisitor frowned, lifting Cullen’s arm around her shoulders, his weight shared evenly between them as she allowed him to lean on her for support.  
“You should have forced yourself to rest before you let it get like this…” The Inquisitor chided, but there was no satisfaction in the reprimand. She helped him to sit on top of the desk, settling one of her cold hands on his forehead, frost just beginning to form at her fingertips as she gently wiped away the feverish sweat on his forehead. He closed his eyes, breathing in slowly as he leaned into her cool touch appreciatively. The contact helped to ground him in reality when everything else whirled around him, but he still seemed to be struggling as he replied,  
“I know, but I couldn’t bear to lie in bed any longer.” His voice was tired and frustrated as he admitted, “I haven’t been sleeping well these last weeks…” He trailed off absently, lost in thought; Cullen shook his head, his eyes snapping shut with discomfort at the movement. The Inquisitor bit her lip, knowing he would refuse the help of one of their peers, but she could tell his condition was worsening by the minute; he could barely hold himself upright in a seated position, and his skin had gone pallid and waxy with fever and perspiration. Cullen himself had witnessed lesser men succumb to the Lyrium withdrawals, but… he couldn’t even finish the thought as bile rose in his throat; Cullen motioned desperately for help from the Inquisitor, who quickly noticed the green color raising in his cheeks and grabbed a basin from a shelf on one side of the room, handing it to Cullen just in time for him to purge the contents of his stomach unceremoniously. He coughed and spat, his face contorting with displeasure as the Inquisitor rubbed his shoulder gently and offered what support she could until he’d finished wretching uncontrollably. His hands shook when he finally dared to set down the basin on the desk next to him.  
“I am going to find Seeker Pentaghast.” The Inquisitor announced, in a no-nonsense tone. Cullen made a move to retort, but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. “She can help me get you moved to my chamber, and then we both will be unavailable for the rest of the day.” Cullen’s expression looked sour. “We can make it the rest of the week if we need to.” She challenged, perking one eyebrow up at him. He looked as though he wanted to put up some kind of a fight, but didn’t have it in him, visibly deflated.   
“You know how I feel about you, Inquisitor.” Cullen said, slowly and with great effort. He was breathing hard, and his voice had gone cracked and gravelly from the purge. “It’s just… This isn’t exactly how I’d intended for the rest of the Inquisition to find out about our, uh, relationship…” He had a hard time returning her gaze as he continued, “I fear for the precedence this sets for not just you and I, but for the Inquisition as a whole. When their commander is seen being carried to The Inquisitor’s chambers… we’ll never hear the end of it.” He coughed again, his throat gone dry. The Inquisitor’s eyebrows drew together in concern as she watched him, looking defeated. “Not to mention the fact that I can’t even stand on my own. Needing to be carted around like a babe on its mother’s hip. They’re all going to think the only reason I’m still around, is because we’re sleeping together!”  
“I suppose they all had to learn of it somehow.” The Inquisitor cut in, interrupting him to break the stream of negativity. “That’s how you see it, Cullen, but you’re wrong. You should be proud, Commander! You are a symbol to the templars out there- a beacon of hope for others to try to cut themselves free of their Lyrium addictions, to try to live a better life!” His erratic breathing had slowed some now, “But that means they must see all the ugly details that accompany such an undertaking. You must wear it proudly, darling, for your suffering is the proof of your strength in the face of adversity.” The Inquisitor kissed his feverish cheek gently before finally leaving his office at a sprint to find the Seeker, whom she had chosen specifically because of she and Cullen’s previous agreement regarding his condition.  
When the Inquisitor finally found Cassandra, she was seated quietly in a sunny patch of the courtyard, meditating,  
“Cassandra-“ The Inquisitor’s breathing was hurried.  
“Hello, Inquisitor.” Her greeting was quick, as Cassandra had noticed the urgency flashing in the dalish elf’s eyes.  
“I need your help, Seeker.” The Inquisitor nodded toward Cullen’s office, and Cassandra’s eyes widened in understanding. They set off quickly, Cassandra following on the Inquisitor’s heels as she informed the Seeker of Cullen’s predicament; Cassandra sighed, replying,  
“Forgive me, Inquisitor. I admit I have noticed a decline in the Commander’s health as of late, but I did not bring it to your attention because I thought he would be able to shake himself out of it before you returned.” Cassandra looked angry, though with whom, the Inquisitor was unsure. “Though, now I fear we really may need to begin searching for a replacement for Cullen, even if it is only temporary.” She shook her head as they walked, sadness clear on her face. “We both know he is so much better than this.” When they were nearing the last stretch of rampart, Cassandra finally confirmed the Inquisitor’s fears, elaborating, “You should know, Cullen collapsed in the War Room last week in front of Josephine, Leliana and Morrigan… It was the first glimpse any of them had seen firsthand of the sickness, and his pride took a serious blow.” The Inquisitor nodded, preparing herself for the look of defeat and betrayal that awaited her on the inside of his study, but what they found was much worse.  
Cullen was slumped forward on the desk, almost unconscious, and only taking short, shallow breaths.  
“Cullen!” The Inquisitor gasped, running to her Commander’s side, fearing for the worst.  
“We must get him to a bed.” Cassandra leaned down, heaving Cullen’s unconscious form over her shoulder. “But I don’t think I can carry him up that ladder.” Her neck craned upward, looking at the ladder that led up to Cullen’s bedchamber.  
“What about mine? Do you think you could carry him to my chamber?” The Inquisitor asked, Cassandra seemed slightly taken aback.  
“Yes, but not exactly… discreetly.” She sounded embarrassed at the proposal, but adjusted Cullen’s weight further onto her back. “You should know, we have nobles here from Val Reyeux… There will be rumors.” The Inquisitor bit her lip, unwilling to waste any more time on frivolities.  
“There will always be talk. I don’t care anymore, he’s more important.” Cassandra nodded solemnly, then began to carry Cullen through Skyhold with the Inquisitor rushing beside them. Sure enough, the Orlesians in the great hall began whispering the moment the Inquisitor opened the door to her private quarters, beckoning Cassandra to finish the last leg of the trip as quickly as they could.  
When Cassandra finally lowered Cullen onto the Inquisitor’s soft bed, the Inquisitor was quick to pour water into the basin on her dresser, dabbing a rag into the bowl and carefully wiping Cullen’s face with the cool compress. After a few moments at this, his eyelids finally fluttered open, a small groan escaping his lips.  
“Thank the Maker-“ Cassandra sighed as the Inquisitor adjusted the pillows behind his head so he could sit up.  
“Where am I?” Cullen asked, his voice thick. The Inquisitor pressed her lips to his temple gently, Cassandra growing clearly more and more uncomfortable with the displays of affection.  
“Do not worry about that now, darling.” The Inquisitor cooed calmingly, “You are safe, and you need to rest.” She sat on the bed beside him, running her fingertips through his hair as he allowed his eyelids to slip closed again slowly.  
“Maker be with you.” The Seeker saluted before turning to leave the two alone.  
“Thank you, Cassandra.” The Inquisitor answered honestly, “We won’t forget this.” Cassandra smiled, nodding back at the Inquisitor before closing the door behind her. The Inquisitor sat in silence with her Commander for a very long time, massaging his temples, and rubbing the tension out of his muscles; she could feel every sinew knotted with the stress he’d allowed to take its toll on him. She shook her head; coupled with his lack of sleep for Andraste knew how long, it was no wonder his already weakened body had just given up on him.   
***  
When the Inquisitor finally woke again, hours later, the sun had just begun to set, casting a golden glow throughout her bedchamber. Cullen was still sleeping intently, his head resting heavily against her shoulder and breast as he snored gently. The Inquisitor wanted to move, but she knew the moment she did, Cullen would stir from his much-needed slumber, so she sat, listening to the rise and fall of his chest for as long as she could handle before her body started to ache from the position she was sitting in. Slowly, gently, the Inquisitor slid out from under Cullen’s weight, but just as she’d feared, he groaned at the loss of contact, cracking one eyelid as the Inquisitor shifted into a more comfortable position next to him.  
“Mmmm-“ He mumbled, scrubbing the back of his still-gloved hand across his slightly swollen eyelids. “How long have we been lying here?” The Inquisitor sighed, answering him honestly,  
“I have no idea, but I don’t think its been nearly long enough for you to be getting out of bed yet.” She kissed his cheek gently, and he seemed to relax some, allowing his eyelids to close again momentarily.  
“I suppose not,” He agreed, shrugging; it took him longer than he’d cared to admit for him to realize he was still dressed in his full suit of armor, but as soon as he realized it, he couldn’t ignore it any longer. “But do you think you could help me with this armor? I hardly think it appropriate attire to wear in the bedroom.” The Inquisitor waggled her eyebrows and laughed, adding,  
“Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”  
Cullen returned her gaze with a chuckle as he began to remove his gloves one finger at a time, setting them on the bed next to him. The Inquisitor sat up straight, turning toward her Commander and helping him to lean up slowly; with the added weight of all his armor, in addition to his heavy jacket, and the fatigue of what he’d been through earlier in the day, Cullen still felt weak and useless when he couldn’t even sit up like he would any other day. The Inquisitor looked at him, tilting her head with concern when he avoided her gaze, until she settled her hands on both sides of his cheeks and made him look at her.  
“Cullen, what’s wrong?” He kept his eyes firmly planted on hers, almost challengingly as he finally answered her honestly.  
“I just… Can’t stop wondering why you still put up with this. After all you’ve been through already, the last thing you need-“ The Inquisitor stopped him speaking, pulling Cullen into an embrace and holding him tightly against her.  
“Not another word,” She slid off the bed, crossing around to help Cullen stand and shed some of the layers he’d been wearing. Cullen sighed, thankful for the help despite his embarrassment at needing it in the first place. “Now isn’t that more comfortable?” The Inquisitor asked, patting her Commander’s cheek gently as he swayed in place. Cullen held the Inquisitor’s hands, easing himself back to lie on her bed once more, admittedly, much more comfortable in just his underclothes.  
“Thank you,” Cullen mumbled, settling into the pillows behind him once more. The Inquisitor chuckled lightly, kissing Cullen on the cheek as his eyelids grew heavy. He yawned, curling back to face the Inquisitor and falling into a deep sleep almost instantly.  
***  
Inquisitor Lavellan wished she could have slept, but the insomnia that had plagued her lover unmercifully, had seemed to possess her consciousness in his place. She was grateful to take the burden from him, but frustrated nonetheless as she waited long into the night before finally finding sleep; what rest the Inquisitor did manage to get was fitful at best, and plagued with the nightmares that had come to accompany the anchor Corypheus had inadvertently given her. No matter how she tried, the Inquisitor found herself unable to shake the same scene from materializing behind her eyelids the moment sweet sleep lulled her into beguiling false comfort: something she’d been shown by the envy demon she’d encountered back when they’d decided to reach out to the templars. At the time, the demon had been trying to elicit a reaction from her and she’d remained cool under the pressure, but each time she closed her eyes now, she couldn’t help but see his kind, trusting face marked with the blood that only accompanied a deep, irreparable wound. The sight made her chest seize in a way she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to admit.  
After what seemed like the thousandth time, the Inquistor’s eyes sank shut against her will, her chin dipping to her chest as her mind conjured forth the same haunting stage she’d seen each time before; Josephine, or rather, the demon taking Josephine’s shape standing behind her Commander, her Cullen, and holding the knife to his throat. Words are exchanged, and, without a second thought, she slips the knife across his throat, separating flesh that once was whole. It almost feels as if the Inquisitor herself is choking on the blood, instead of the one she so deeply cared for, gurgling and gasping for air in front of her as he bled out like a hunted animal.  
“Inquisitor-“ His voice sounded loud, despite the torrent of crimson spilling down the front of him, and Lavellan couldn’t bear to watch anymore; she had to look away somehow, but still the Josephine-esque demon refused to allow it. Unlike the last time, Cullen’s voice continued to ring out, and the Inquisitor tried her damnedest to tear herself away from him, even though it felt as if she were tearing her own heart out.  
“No- Cullen-“ The Inquisitor gasped, reaching out her arms to grab for him as she watched the demon drop him, lifelessly to the ground. “Cullen!”  
“Inquisitor-“ She could feel strong hands grabbing her arms now, but she could not see them in her dream; Cullen shook her awake, trying to be gentle, but the fear on his face betrayed him. “Inquisitor, please!” Finally, Lavellan’s eyes popped open, her breathing frantic with panic from the nightmare. “It’s alright… I’m here.”  
“Oh, Cullen-“ The Inquisitor gasped, gulping fresh air as he pulled her close to his chest. His strength seemed to be returning, for which she was thankful, as she pressed as close as she could to him, reassuring herself that he was, in fact, unharmed.  
“It was only a nightmare,” Cullen said quietly, petting her hair soothingly. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t real.” Lavellan shivered, the image still burned in her mind, unceasing.  
“It was still horrible.”  
“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” Cullen cooed, drawing her into him and running his fingertips over her scalp softly. “And we’ve got all the time we need, just the two of us.” Lavellan laughed weakly, before replying,  
“It’s a sweet sentiment, my dear Commander, but we will eventually have to deal with the rest of the world around us.” He sighed, kissing the side of her head sweetly.  
“That may be true, but it can most certainly wait until tomorrow.”


End file.
